


Poorly Timed Epiphany

by RyeBread



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Love Confession, Love Realization, M/M, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 11:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeBread/pseuds/RyeBread
Summary: Caleb was having a realization. After all the years of repression, self-loathing, rage, and grief - he loved someone. The fact that he was three fingers deep into that someone made it extremely awkward.





	Poorly Timed Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing for years and years and years and the only other fanfic I’ve posted here was almost four years ago. Critical Role has caught my attention this time around, though, and my favorite pairing deserves this 4am disasterpiece.

Caleb was having a realization. After all the years of repression, self-loathing, rage, and grief - he loved someone. The fact that he was three fingers deep into that someone made it extremely awkward.

“Everything alright down there?” Fjord asked, strained amusement in the twang of his voice. He was laying back on the quilt of the inn’s bed, looking down his nose under the crook of his elbow, pillow propping his ass. His left hand was gripping the bedpost tightly, a leather padded manacle binding his wrist to it.

“Fine,” Caleb said easily, because he was good at compartmentalizing when there was an important task at hand. He pressed a kiss to Fjord’s inner calf where it rested over his right shoulder. He started moving his left hand again, pressing up and in with the pads of his fingers. The way was smoothed by oil, but still dragged against him, hot and tight. Caleb could feel the spot that made Fjord clench and gasp, teased to prominence under his slow ministrations. 

Fjord keened when Caleb hooked his fingers and pulled them back, almost out of him. He loved that Fjord could get so sensitive to his touch. That his touch could bring pleasure, not pain. Not unwanted pain, at the least. Caleb’s thumb pressed hard against Fjord’s perineum, just below his testicles which had drawn up tight. Fjord’s heavy cock jumped against his stomach, a lazy stream of precum pooling in the thatch of hair that tapered off just above his navel. The muscles of his stomach clenched hard, eliciting a low groan from the man. He buried his face in his arm.

“Everything all right up there?” Caleb asked, teasing. His free hand dragged dull nails up Fjord’s thigh, leaving pale lines against sea green skin. Said skin pebbled and the muscle twitched beneath, already taught with the angle.

“‘M gonna cum if you touch my dick,” Fjord warned, lifting his elbow enough to meet eyes with Caleb again. They were sharp and golden, unclouded despite his staggered breath and deep flush. If he was still forming complete sentences then Caleb wasn’t giving him nearly the attention he deserved. Had earned by keeping his hands to himself, even if he needed a helpful reminder. The manacle at Fjord’s wrist rattled with the tremble in his arm. He didn’t tug at it, didn’t strain until his wrist was raw and smarting like he occasionally had in the past. No, he was being good, for Caleb. The man gasped at the twitch of the fingers inside him, “I mean it!”

Caleb let his right hand slide back down the sweat-slicked thigh that was braced against his chest. “That would be terrible,” he said, and he paused at the crease of thigh and groin. His right index traced a path along through the patch of wiry hair, up to where it became sticky with precum. 

Fjord breathed out a warning “Caleb!” which was promptly ignored in favor of running a thumb up the pulsing curve of Fjord’s cock. The velvet soft skin bunched and strained all the way to the frenulum. Fjord stretched beautifully, arching his hips, dancing against the hard pressure within him and the insistent touch above. His walls were pressing tight against Caleb’s fingers, forcing them against the knot of nerves. “Gods, Caleb- I’m fuckin’ gonna!”

That was closer to what Caleb was going for - moaning, half-formed pleas. “Would you like to cum for me?” Caleb asked. He closed his hand around Fjord’s base loosely. He let the motion of Fjord’s hips bring his hand up to the glistening crown then back down. 

“Please,” Fjord begged, and Caleb allowed it. His fingers within Fjord bucked inward and out to the very edge of Fjord’s entrance, then quickly back in. He pressed down against Fjord’s cock with his palm nearly flat, allowing the repeated slide of oil, sweat, and precum to bring Fjord to a muffled groan of completion, spurting up his stomach, nearly to his chest. He heaved breaths like he had broken the surface of a lake, soaked in sweat enough to fit the scene. 

Caleb’s wrist was well past complaining about the angle, but he ignored it for the moment, instead leaving his fingers lightly curled against the throb of nerves that were sending aftershocks through Fjord’s body. He eased Fjord’s leg off his shoulder, left hand still inside him, and leaned up to catch Fjord’s waiting mouth with his own. Fjord was a needy kisser, not a desperate one. He had wants that went into how he kissed. Caleb went along with it, another reward for the show of restraint even with one hand free. He pressed his tongue to Fjord’s when the latter parted his lips, tasting him, feeling his tongue and teeth. The light protrusion of tusks were a new thing, rounded for both their sake - at least until they weren’t at risk of punching an unfortunate hole somewhere.

Fjord’s dick twitched, cum still slipping from the slit. Caleb removed his fingers from Fjord’s ass, muttering a quick incantation and rolling his wrist. The oil that coated his hand dissipated, leaving his hand dry and soft. He put it to Fjord’s right hand, easing Fjord’s arm away from his eyes, interlacing their fingers as Caleb found a more comfortable position. His erection pressed into the slick, spent heat of Fjord’s groin and their chests rubbed together. Caleb’s free hand moved to the cuff on the bedpost. They had left the key in the lock, this time. One forty minute search that ended in a heated debate over whether or not to call in Nott for assistance (they did not, but they did need to buy Molly another set at the next town after disposing of the slag that had become the old pair) had been more than enough of a lesson.

“You want me to...?” Fjord asked, rolling his hips against Caleb’s cock. Caleb shook his head and allowed his wrist to be captured by Fjord’s newly freed hand to be massaged gently.

“I am good,” Caleb confirmed after a moment. “Perhaps later, but for now I am content to bask in your glow, as it were.”

“Mm,” Fjord hummed, unlacing their hands to encourage Caleb’s head down against his shoulder, his other hand still pressing a thumb into the joint of Caleb’s thumb and wrist, chasing out a knot. He rubbed a soothing pattern into the base of Caleb’s skull under the mat of red hair. “Noticed you went a bit lost there for a moment. Anything you wanna talk about?”

Caleb shrugged, facedown on Fjord’s body, forehead against his clavicle. “You are very distracting,” Caleb said, truthful while avoiding the question that was asked.

“Not as distracting as you,” Fjord said gently, “like now, where you’re distracting me from what I actually asked.”

‘Scheiße,’ Caleb thought. “I do not know,” he said, and that was as close as he could get to an answer.

Not close enough, apparently. “You don’t know if you want to talk about it, or don’t know what I’ll think if you do?” Fjord wasn’t angry or accusatory, which was shit because at least then Caleb could have an excuse for locking down. The rolling boil of anxiety that followed him everywhere spilled over, setting his jaw hard and firm against a proper answer. “Hey, none of that now,” Fjord chided, thick arms folding over Caleb in a tight embrace. “You don’t gotta tell me now.”

Caleb let the compression soothe his nerve, taking a fortifying breath. He closed his eyes despite being shielded against Fjord’s gaze by Fjord’s own chin against the top of his head. “It’s silly,” Caleb dismissed.

“We just spent the past hour having you stick half your hand up my ass, we’re four towns past silly,” Fjord joked.

“I suppose that is part of it, ja?” Caleb said, upward inflection betraying his statement as an uncertainty. 

Fjord snorted a laugh. “You sticking your fingers up my ass was part of what, exactly?”

Caleb huffed a laugh against Fjord’s neck. “Seeing you like that, open for me, trusting me. Letting me have you vulnerable. Making yourself vulnerable to me. It made me realize that this is something I have not had- or, or have not let myself have. No. This is something I have not let myself want to have and now that I do, now that you have offered that to me...”

Fjord made an encouraging noise, arms still crossed over Caleb’s back. The point of his chin dug into Caleb’s scalp, not enough to hurt, but enough to be grounding. Caleb kept his eyes shut against Fjord’s neck.

“I think that, if - well if nothing, I suppose. I feel that I love you, Fjord. I feel love again, and it is for you.” Caleb swallowed hard. Fjord did not go stiff, but his posture froze. The seconds dragged on, five, ten. Fifteen. “I can hear your heartbeat,” Caleb said after twenty, trying to say something to get Fjord to speak some kind of word, anything really.

“I guess I, uh,” Fjord started. He trailed off with a half-hearted chuckle. “Huh. I never would have guessed that... Hm.”

“Hm?” Caleb asked, an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. He could feel the broken pitch of his voice scrape his throat. 

“My ass is that great, then?”

“You are the ass, you ass,” Caleb barked, pushing up from Fjord’s chest, but the angle was poor and Fjord was, if only slightly, stronger. 

“I’m teasing, darling,” Fjord laughed. He pet Caleb’s hair down, threading his fingers through the locks as he tugged him back to meet his eyes. Blue met gold as Fjord gazed at him. “Caleb, I’ve been thinking I was in love with you for weeks.”

Caleb flushed, looking down to break the intensity of the stare. His fingers flexed against the meat of Fjord’s chest. “Oh. I. Well that’s good to hear.”

“I didn’t even have to finger you to orgasm to figure it out, either.”

“You are a shit and I take it all back,” Caleb announced. “This was a libido induced illusion, my feelings have been compromised by lust. I have been assaulted and misled by your pheromone laden eroticism, I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Aw, darling,” Fjord crooned, “just because I have an ass that won’t quit doesn’t mean that’s all it has to be. You can love all of me.”

“You do realize that if Mollymauk hears about any of this, he will never let it go,” Caleb said with a stoic air of austerity. 

“I’ve been here for about half of this conversation.” 

Fjord and Caleb both bucked at the sharp voice at the door. It was closed, but a shadow was visible beneath it, framed by the light of hall sconces. 

“Yeah, right around the big finish I came over to knock and ask if you’d be interested in joining the rest of us for a nightcap,” Molly explained cordially through the door. “I kept asking myself if I should just come back in a few minutes, but then I thought, ‘Remember that time you lent Fjord your favorite pair of cuffs?’”

“Gods damn you, Molly,” Fjord shouted. “I bought you another pair and got my own.”

“Yes, see, but those had been my favorite pair; rabbit fur set on leather over solid iron. Hand crafted. Had my name engraved and everything.” 

Two solid bangs through the wall beside the bed sent a light vibration through it. Beau’s voice, rough by nature, but now also sleep, came through loudly, “Can you guys, like, have your critical love life realizations quieter?”

“How much have you been able to hear?” Caleb asked through the wall.

“Let’s just say that you are the only dude I would feel comfortable - no, honored - asking for finger technique,” Beau said.

“And her technique is very good,” Yasha said, joining Beau’s voice from the other room. “Really, it’s a compliment.”

Molly laughed uproariously, “Inns aren’t exactly built for privacy.”

“Please,” Caleb begged, projecting his voice toward the door, “tell me Nott and Jester are downstairs.”

“They are,” Molly affirmed. “You two have your little lovey-dovey talk and come downstairs to join us if you’d like. Though I can’t guarantee how tight my lips will be on this a few drinks in. Better hurry.”

And with that, the tiefling’s shadow disappeared from the doorway. The sound of his boots faded quickly. 

Caleb looked over to the shared wall between their room and that of Beau and Yasha, then spoke softly, “We should head downstairs, if only to make sure Molly doesn’t get lost in his cups. I am sure Nott is long since gone, but she can handle it a fair bit better than Molly.”

Fjord stole another kiss, letting Caleb roll off of him and to the edge of the bed. “You think we should tell Nott and Jester?”

“They know we’ve been having sex since nearly the onset, Fjord.”

“True,” he said, looking over with that piercing gaze of his. Fjord leaned onto his side, right hand going to Caleb’s cheek. “You know Jester’s going to be over the moon when she finds out, and equal parts pissed if she hears it from Molly first.”

“Okay,” Caleb relented. “We will let her know that there are now deeper feeling being acknowledged here.”

“Sound strategy,” Fjord teased. 

They lingered in bed, lounging on the wrinkled and battle-scarred quilt for a few more minutes before they - slowly, ever slowly - put on enough clothing to be minimally presentable. 

“Caleb?” Fjord asked, tugging his shirt smooth.

“Yes, Fjord?”

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you spot any lost dialogue tags, slips in tense, or egregious spelling/grammar mistakes. I’m thinking of jumping back into fan fiction after years of trying to focus on original fiction; so getting into the swing of things and not having an editor I pay to watch for those is going to be rough.


End file.
